


Too much blood

by Aloe_kun



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Crying, Gen, I love torturing my favourite characters, I'm Sorry, Knives, Self-Harm, Sister only gets mentioned, Vomiting, actually no I'm not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 16:52:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloe_kun/pseuds/Aloe_kun
Summary: There was too much blood, dripping on the floor. All his own. He'd gotten careless.[I have a new favourite character. That's bad news (for him)]





	Too much blood

Shinguji couldn't remember what had brought this on. Something he'd heard, something he'd said? Something must had gone awry, to the point that it had pushed him into a sense of utter panic and despair. But through the hazy mess of thoughts, he couldn't even think what it was. All he knew for sure was that there was too much blood, dripping on the floor. _All_ his own. 

He'd gotten careless. Panicked, cut far too deep for too long.

He'd only noticed when he'd started to feel unsteady, vision swimming slightly at the edges, knife slipping from his shaking, bloody hands. Had he been standing, he certainly would have fallen.

Sister wasn't there. Why, _why_ , **_why_**? Had he done something wrong? Upset Her? The thought of his dear, sweet sister hating him... He couldn't bear it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. But why wasn't She there? He could feel the panic rising in his throat-

No, that wasn't simply panic. His throat burned, and-

He threw up.

He'd barely had time to tug his mask down before his chest tightened, spewing the hot, acidic liquid out of his mouth. He coughed; he'd hardly eaten, so it was practically just acid, it burned his throat and mouth, and the slices on his arms as he foolishly moved a hand up to wipe his lips. Her lipstick left a bright red smear on his hand. He'd have to reapply it later. If he made it to later. The magenta blood dripping from his hands stained large patches on the floor and his clothes.

When had blood began to appear as pink? And why? He'd killed girls outside of this damned game, he could remember the bright red stains on his hands and clothes. The adrenaline rush from the fear of being caught that made his whole body tremble, similar to the state he was in now, though it was for different reasons. And oh god, the horrible wave of _guilt_ the first time he'd killed for Her sake. He should have felt good about it. He was making Her happy, right? But the guilt never truly left. It became less prominent, but still lingered there in his subconscious. He regularly killed the very human lives he'd dedicated his own to studying, for Her sake.

He felt as though he would throw up again, but there wasn't anything to bring up. He swallowed hard. He felt dizzy. Despite his bleary vision, he looked up at the clock. 7pm. He knew almost everyone would be winding down by now, it was getting late after all. Korekiyo knew he should get up, bandage his arms, eat something, but he felt that his legs would be too weak to allow him to even stand. He couldn't do anything, except watch the little drips of magenta joining the rest on the floor.

He'd begun crying at some point. His skin seemed oversensitive, the hot tears trailing down his cheeks feeling too much, the cuts littering his arms throbbing in pain. Between the burning in his throat and choking on sobs, he could hardly breathe. What few breaths he took were shaky and ragged. Distantly, he thought maybe he could hear someone knocking on his door, but surely that would be wishful thinking. Merely an auditory hallucination brought on by blood loss. No one would come to help him this late. It seemed he'd doomed himself to die here, in this room. Even if he wanted to let them in, he'd have to get up to unlock the door.

Everything was blurry. If he really focused, he thought the knocking seemed to be louder. A few voices had joined it, a slight rattling in the lock. His head was swimming, and he slumped forward onto the floor into the blood and acid that pooled there. It stung at his arms. He was still shaking, and felt unbearably weak. What little coherent thought he had went into thinking of how disappointed his dear sister must be in him... Laying here, dying by his own hand. He was a pathetic _mess._ A mess that was losing consciousness by the second.

Just before the world faded out into black haze, he saw the door being flung open, casting a beam of bright light across him.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy I do love fucking up my favourite characters HEUH
> 
> (Don't worry he'll probably be fine)


End file.
